Harm none…..


What is it that you want me to write about? Is it anger, death, sadness, forgiveness, love, happiness what is it that you want me to write about. I have no clue as to what I am to write, I have written about death, fear, anger, rage and mistrust. What more would you have me say on those subjects that torture my mind. Can we not move on to pieces of happiness, joy, understanding and forgiveness? It all seems so confusing when I look at what I have written; it is all over the place, such as my mind is. What do I tell people who read what I write and want me to explain these ramblings I call thoughts, how can I explain them, I don’t want to explain them, let them take from me what they want and leave to be alone with my sufferings. I can t do this much longer, this rage eats me from the inside out, rotting my brain with its negative words and ways, spewing forth onto paper such vile acts and deeds, is this what this was supposed to be for me. I want to wander the forests and plains in endless search of a peace I cannot find here trapped in this empty hollow place I live, no home is this, no laughter echoes through this house, only pain and suffering, desperation and damnation. Nowhere to hide from my mind, from the feelings of worthlessness and despair. Nowhere to lay my weary bones without medications help to find a halfway peaceful sleep, to again wake in the morn to start the cycle over again, someone once told me that only I could break the cycles of ruination in my head, only I could learn to forgive and move on, but what of me lately, what words I have spoken, what tales I have told, danger lurks in the vary corners of my mind and yet as I scrub the filth away things seem to scurry about in my mind covering everything over again just as I finish cleaning it out, rambling you say, well I say to hell with you these are thoughts straight from my head to keyboard to you, and that is the way this particular tale will go until it ends, if you don’t care for it then please stop reading, for fear that I may offend I will digress, not I will not digress for you or anyone, this is my story damn it and I will tell it as I see fit and a pox on you if find this tale not to your liking. See my story begins years ago as a little boy, white blond hair, soul full grey eyes and hand me down shirts and trousers, I did have two older brothers and even though we could afford new clothes we didn’t get them. Ah poor pitiful Dan, his life is and was tragic, once because of the fear giver and now because he can’t let the fear giver alone even if the bastard is dead and burned and ashes stored in some damn mausoleum in the middle of Missouri. I would tell you more of me as a child but I have no memories other than what was told to me from my mother who was as jaded towards my father than I was, and if David talked of them is few and far between and once again he was jaded too. I could tell you of the young man Dan who at 14 struck out in this big world by himself, but you see he went hungry a lot and started to use drugs as a means of keeping himself alive. Or would you rather me tell you of the man Dan has become, house bound most of the time, anxiety ridden and confused as to which day of the week it is, or just exactly who it is writing this damn post, you see we and I mean we don’t know who is writing this post because I am not anger, I don’t know what I am sitting alone in this white room with black furniture, am I new here or have I been waiting in the wings for a moment such as this to reveal myself, what part of Dan am I? You know I am not anger look at the way I write, medication is kicked in and allows me the freedom to write as I will, you need to know who Dan is before you can understand why he is the way he is. He is a scared child in a man’s body with the strength of a man but the fears of a child, did you know he is afraid of the dark, did you know that he cuddles with a pillow even with his wife sleeping next to him. Scared, frightened little Daniel, what will become of him, I wonder if he knows how much I detest the taste of tobacco juice, it is a foul thing to put in ones mouth, like that will stop him. Did you know they taught him to kill men, in many different ways, did you know they taught him how to kill men with many different weapons including his hands and  using a knife, his wife doesn’t know what they taught him to do but I am sure she can guess, has he ever taken a man’s life, is that what you want to know, only Dan can answer that question, I detest what they taught him to do, he is not a warrior even though he has been through hell and back in his life, do I think he would kill a man, only in self defense and if one of his loved ones were in danger. Dan will not allow us to have names, and I do have a name and I will not write it here but he knows me very well. I am the part of him that keeps him from doing harm unto others, I stay his hand in anger the only part of anger that I can control you see, if he hurts someone in violence it may be the end of Dan as we know him and he might not be controlled again, I have stopped him in the past from harming his wife in anger, did you know that, I stopped him from killing that man in the bar that was beating on his wife, I kept his hand from tearing out the man’s trachea, I stopped him when that mugger in St. Louis tried to take all that he had, his arms wrapped around this man’s throat twisting his head waiting to hear the snap of vertebrae in his neck, I have told you these things so that you understand that he is a decent man and wishes no harm done to himself or other, but he will hurt any and all who come to hurt him or his family. I think I have scared you of Dan, but if I leave you with anything of who Dan is, it is this he wants peace and he wants to give up a past that has haunted him for generations and for him to do just that he needs to stop the anger before it consumes him, and for that I will need more help than from just his wife, I wonder if I should say our wife, is………

I cannot finish what this other aspect was saying due to the fact that my wife interrupted and he fled back into the consciousness of my mind, this is one aspect that I cannot assign an emotion to. I do hope he comes back he seems to be as strong or stronger than anger I leave you to make up your mind on your own, perhaps even come up with and emotion equal to what he or was it a she said, I don’t see feminine writing involved in this but somehow it strikes me as a woman, just what I wanted a female aspect. But with DID you never know what you will be dealing with. Also the fact that it was calling my wife our wife? Food for thought. I am also not going to put a picture in with this post, the only one that comes to mind is a picture of a pirate woman swinging on a rope with a saber in her hands, still food for thought.

Much gratitude and devotion,

Dan Kline

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